


wearing nothing but your boots

by tinnunculus



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Boot Worship, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating out, Hair-pulling, M/M, PWP, Subspace, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character, Trans porn by a trans writer, dick stepping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinnunculus/pseuds/tinnunculus
Summary: The look Felix gave him was cold, calculating, like he'd measured Sylvain's worth and found him lacking. Sylvain squirmed under the weight of it. He wanted to be worth something in Felix's eyes, and the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	wearing nothing but your boots

**Author's Note:**

> ty to robin and saro for betaing this, and the sylvix bigbang discord for encouraging this brainworm! /blows kiss
> 
> also! felix is trans in this, but i have made every effort to minimise any gendered language! there is a reference to poor binding practices at the end but it is called out on. stay safe!!

Sometimes, Sylvain needed a chance to let go completely.

Felix knew the signs, seemed to have a better sense of his mental state than Sylvain himself; the way he’d carry tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his eyes, his grip around his quill just on the edge of too tight, his brushstrokes too heavy. Sometimes all Felix had to do to diffuse that tension was drag Sylvain to bed early and massage his shoulders until he fell asleep, and he’d wake up the next day feeling lighter.

But Sylvain had been tense all week, stress and irritation crawling up his spine and settling into an awful, tight knot at the base of his skull. He’d refused Felix's attempt to drag him into bed; he was too busy, his focus was needed  _ here _ , he didn’t have the luxury of an early night. It was when he snapped at one of the maids for not moving out of the way fast enough that he thought distantly that, maybe, it finally was time to take more drastic measures and let Felix take care of him, if he could find the time.

They had a system; sometimes Sylvain would approach Felix first, aware enough of his own irritability to ask for help. More often, Felix would have to take charge; Sylvain getting too caught up in his own head to realise that the tension was starting to show outwardly. They were in a meeting; a particularly long, dull one. One that involved untangling the knot of complicated politics that surrounded trying to bring some of the more stubborn empire territories under a united Fodlan banner.

Sylvain had been zoning out a little, the boarders on the map getting fuzzy when he felt fingers wrapped around his wrist. Fingertips pressed into the tendons of his forearm and three taps with an index finger against his pulsepoint. He glanced over to see Felix beside him, and the silent message was clear; the look Felix gave him brooked no argument of that. 

Sylvain gulped, mouth suddenly dry and all thoughts of political maneuvering leaving his brain. Felix’s attention returned to Dedue, who had leant over the map sprawled on the table between them and gesturing empathetically, his words nothing but a hollow buzz in Sylvain’s ears.

  
  


* * *

  


Sylvain wasn’t sure what to expect as he approached his chambers that night. He usually left the specific details of the scene up to Felix. It was better that way; Felix knew what boundaries to push, what things to steer clear from, the result of many years of fumbling through and difficult conversation. Sylvain trusted Felix with his life, his heart, his  _ everything _ , but the unknown still caused anxiety to weigh in his gut.

He hesitated at the door, hand on the doorknob, listening. He could hear the crackling of the fire, muted footsteps against wood as someone - Felix, no doubt, - moved around the room with sure steps.

“Are you coming in?” Felix called, and Sylvain startled, the jerk causing the knob to twist in his hand as he sheepishly stepped through, suddenly feeling foolish. Felix stood at the fireplace, stirring up the ashes with the poker. The light from the fire cast him in sharp relief, and Sylvain was struck for a moment at how  _ beautiful _ he was, in that sharp, deadly way of his. 

He’d donned the gaiters, he noted. Usually he’d have pulled them off by now, changed into lighter, less constricting clothing in the evenings, and released his hair from its customary bun. But this wasn’t a normal evening. He’d set a bowl of water and some cloth by the fireplace as well, steam rising from it in gentle plumes. Ever fastidious in his preparations. Felix glanced up at him as he approached, setting the poker aside as Sylvain glanced around the rest of the room.

Sylvain hadn’t even noticed Felix approaching him; one moment he was stood still in the doorway, rubbing self consciously at the back of his neck and trying to come up with a decent excuse as to why he’d been hovering outside his own chambers, the next he was pushed up against the solid wood. Felix pressed against him, crowding him further against the door as he pressed his mouth against Sylvain’s exposed neck, biting sharply and then soothing the pain with his tongue. The fingers in his hair curled tighter, pulling down, and Sylvain was helpless but to follow the movement, a long, desperate whine rising deep in his throat as his back arched, pressing his crotch forwards into Felix’s waiting palm. His hands scrabbled uselessly at Felix’s arms, too wrongfooted to collect himself as he felt Felix smirk against his skin, the pressure easing as quickly as it had come.

Sylvain slumped against the door, gasping as Felix strode to the bed, looking entirely unruffled, as if he hadn’t just knocked the breath out of him and left him already feeling tight in his breeches. He spun once he reached the bed, settling down onto the edge, and Sylvain had to bite back the faintest of smiles when Felix bounced a little as his weight settled.

“On your knees.” Felix’s voice cracked through the air like a whip, and Sylvain’s knees were buckling before he’d even properly registered the words.  _ Shit. _ “Come here.”

Sylvain bit back a whimper, slowly shuffling forwards and trying not to wince at the unforgiving, cold press of stone on his knees. Reaching the rug by the bedside was a relief as Sylvain stopped in front of Felix, eyes cast downwards to stare at his boots.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, Sylvain lifted his gaze, focusing on each part of Felix as he dragged his vision upwards. The dangerously casual sprawl of his legs, the fingers skimming across his folded forearms, his pursed mouth. And then he reached his eyes and froze. The look Felix gave him was cold, calculating, like he'd measured Sylvain's worth and found him lacking. Sylvain squirmed under the weight of it. He  _ wanted _ to be worth something in Felix's eyes, and the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless.

Long, scarred and callused fingers threaded into Sylvain's hair, grip going tight as Felix tugged Sylvain's head back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his throat. Sylvain struggled to bite back a whimper, a shiver running down his spine.

“Sothis, look at you,” Felix breathed finally, leaning forwards to brush his thumb across Sylvain’s lower lip, reverent. Sylvain’s eyes fluttered closed as he sucked Felix’s thumb into his mouth. Felix indulged him for a bit, holding Sylvain's chin with his free fingers. 

“Take off your clothes,” Felix said, the commanding tone causing Sylvain’s stomach to drop, coiling tight. Frantically, he released Felix’s thumb and scrabbled at the buttons of his shirt, desperately trying to claw them off. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Felix admonished, grabbing a handful of Sylvain’s hair again and tugging him up, causing Sylvain to rise up on his knees. “Slowly, sweetheart, we’re not in any rush.”

Sylvain returned to his buttons, taking deep breaths to try and calm the excited shakes of his hands as one by one he tugged them free, finally shrugging off his shirt and tossing it aside. He shivered as cool air hit his skin, glancing up at Felix for approval and getting only a raised eyebrow in return.

Right, of course. He’d only get praise when he did everything Felix asked of him. He toed off his boots and socks, nudging them out of the way with a foot while he fumbled with the ties of his breeches. Were this a normal night he would’ve been teasing by now - untying the laces slowly baiting Felix with flashes of skin,making lighthearted jokes - but the single tapping finger against Felix’s arm meant that Felix didn’t want to be kept waiting. He kept his movements efficient, sliding the breeches and undergarments down his thighs and kicking them off as soon as they were loose enough to do so.

Now feeling bare and exposed, he slowly started to shuffle forwards to the bed on his knees - they’d done this often enough that even though Felix hadn’t explicitly told him he couldn’t stand, Sylvain knew he was to remain on his knees. A tut brought him up short, and he glanced up at Felix to see him settle back on the bed, leaning his weight behind him on both hands and one leg crossed primly over the other, his hair now out of its bun to cascade in a loose ponytail over his shoulder.

“Are you going to leave behind a mess for me to tidy after you, boy? Fold them.”

Sylvain hesitated, holding back the distressed whine building in his throat, caught between his desire to obey Felix and his desperation to be touched. Finally the need to please Felix won out and he complied, carefully gathering his clothes and placing them folded atop the footstool by the fireplace.

“Good boy.” The praise caused a glowing ember of heat to rocket down into Sylvain’s groin. He’d been ignoring his burgeoning erection up until now, but now, stripped bare with no cloth to hide behind, he was hyper aware of the weight of his cock curving upwards, the electrifying tingle of need skittering over his skin like one of Felix’s thoron spells.

Felix crooked a finger. “Come here.”

Sylvain scrambled to obey, ignoring the harsh scrape of the rug against his knees; he was going to be enduring much worse during the course of this evening. Felix opened up his legs to accommodate Sylvain, gently guiding him to settle in front of him with hands on his shoulder and curled into his hair. Sylvain leant into the touch greedily, luxuriating in the feeling of Felix’s callous-rough fingertips against his skin.

“Fold your arms behind your back, don’t move them until I tell you to.” Felix said, removing the hand from Sylvain’s shoulder once he was in a position Felix was satisfied with, but keeping the other firmly tangled in Sylvain’s hair. Sylvain complied, gripping his biceps in trembling fingers.

“Do you think you can hold them there for me? Or am I going to have to tie you?”

Sylvain shook his head frantically. He’ll be good, he  _ can _ be good. He wanted to do whatever Felix wanted, to  _ please _ him.

“Okay,” Felix chuckled softly, stroking once down the back of Sylvain’s head, pacifying. “But if you let go I’m getting the rope, do you understand?” Sylvain nodded, but Felix stopped the movement with a hand on Sylvain’s chin.

“Tell me if you understand.”

“I understand.” Sylvain spoke through a tongue that felt too big for his mouth, the edges of his mind starting to go dark and fuzzy. Warm. Safe.

It had taken a while; months and years of pulling back and soothing and easing Sylvain through the anxious shakes for Felix to temper his voice to be just the right edge of harsh; enough that Sylvain would pay attention and not question and do whatever Felix asked of him, but not too much that it grated too harshly against still-raw edges. Now the space his head would retreat to was comforting, not oppressive.

“Good boy.” Felix’s hand returned to stroking through Sylvain’s hair. Sylvain leant into it, his whole body moving into Felix, his chest brushing against Felix’s knees. “There we go, go down for me.” Felix spoke softly, the soothing tenor that always helped slow Sylvain’s racing thoughts and pay attention. He allowed his eyes to slide closed for a moment, focus on the points of contact that stopped him from drifting away completely -- the hard ground under the thin cushioning of the rug, his fingers clasped into the flesh of his arms, the rhythmic pressure as Felix brushed through his hair, Felix’s body, warm and solid, against his chest.

A brush against his cheek brought him out of it a little, enough that he was once again aware of the rest of the room. The pleasant staticky buzz that had replaced his thoughts remained, though. Felix shifted, cupping Sylvain’s face in both hands as he gently pushed him back into an upright position. Sylvain went, rolling back to perch on his heels and readjusting his knees to stave off the ache already starting to permeate. Felix tilted his head more to force eye contact, brushing his thumbs across Sylvain’s mouth, causing his mouth to part with a soft sigh.

“Okay?” Sylvain nodded at the question, not wanting to speak. The smirk on Felix’s face became dangerous as he tilted Sylvain’s head back further, pushing at the corners of his mouth with his thumbs to force it open and slip his fingers inside. Sylvain opened his mouth wider willingly, fighting the urge to close his eyes as he licked at Felix’s fingers, pulling some into his mouth and tonguing between them.

“I do like when you take the initiative,” Felix breathed, and Sylvain preened at the praise, eyes fluttering closed as he worked at Felix’s fingertips with his tongue, letting Felix tilt his head back for easier access with a firm grip on his jaw.

“Suck.” And Sylvain did, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes as Felix put more fingers in his mouth, forcing his tongue down flat. Months of Felix fucking his mouth with his fingers had taught Sylvain how to suppress his gag reflex. Felix whispered praise into his ear, and satisfaction bubbled up his chest. Pressure against his cock made him jerk with surprise, almost choking on Felix’s fingers. His eyes flicked down, following the sharp line of Felix’s leg to where the ball of his foot had pinned Sylvain’s erection to his hips.

Shit.

Breathing heavily through his nose, Sylvain scrambled to collect himself, hollowing his cheeks around Felix’s fingers and rutting against the weight of the boot on his crotch.

The pressure was unrelenting. Felix’s fingers gently slid further down Sylvain’s throat, and he struggled not to gag and choke at the fullness of them in his mouth, jaw starting to ache with the strain. Precome dribbled down his dick onto Felix’s boot and Sylvain whined desperately, struggling to breathe, struggling to control the frantic twitching of his hips. He felt electric, pleasure sparking across every one of his nerves and lighting a fire across his skin.

His release came without warning, like a punch to the gut and an inferno all at once. Felix’s fingers were suddenly gone from his mouth and he sagged forwards, pressing his forehead against Felix’s upper thigh as he panted, strings of spit dripping from his mouth. He clenched his arms, scrambling to pull his scattered thoughts together instead of slipping back into that warm, dark place.

Felix tutted in disapproval, pulling Sylvain’s head up by the hair to look him in the eye as Sylvain struggled to regulate his breathing. Unable to hide, Sylvain gasped, trembling and oversensitive. “Did I say you could come?” Felix asked.

“N...no.” Sylvain gasped, feeling sick. Felix hadn’t said he could come, he’d  _ disappointed _ him. Anxiety and self-loathing bubbled up, dark and sticky like tar in his throat. Why was he incapable of not fucking everything up? He couldn’t even keep his traitorous body under control long enough to do what his love asked of him?

Felix watched him consideringly, and Sylvain felt exposed, as if every single awful thought he was having had bubbled to the surface, writ plain across his skin. Felix didn’t let him look away, still holding his hair in a tight grip, but the touch against his cheek was soft and gentle.

“Hey,” Felix spoke softly, the stoic mask slipping briefly, “it’s okay, I’m not mad.” The hold in his hair loosened and Sylvain immediately burrowed his face in Felix’s stomach, trying to force down the shame. Felix let him for a moment, and Sylvain felt fingers smoothing his hair down as he pulled himself back together, forced the ugly parts of him deep, deep down so he could focus on being good for Felix; the only thing that mattered. “Okay?” 

Sylvain nodded as he pulled himself back upright, rolling his weight onto his heels and straightening his spine. He’d fucked up once, he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“Good,” Felix settled back into his previous position, sedate and lazy as he lifted his foot, pushing it into Sylvain’s face. Sylvain reared back instinctually, the smell of leather and wax mixing with the salty tang of his spend. “Clean it off.”

Sylvain’s mouth went dry as he watched some of the come slide off Felix’s boot. Felix  _ tsk _ ed in disapproval, pressing the tip of his boot against Sylvain’s chin in a silent warning. Obligingly, Sylvain dipped his head to lick across the toe of the boot, staring at Felix as he did so. Felix watched impassively, holding his leg still to allow him to work, so he did, scooping the come up with his tongue and grimacing as he swallowed. Once it was clean Felix tapped once on Sylvain’s chin, and he obligingly opened his mouth for Felix’s inspection. Felix hummed with approval, tapping his chin again to close it and the tugging him up to kiss him, deep and filthy. Sylvain arched helplessly upwards, his dick already starting to stir again.

“Good boy,” Felix breathed, his cheek looking a little flushed as he pulled away. Sylvain strained to follow but was stopped by Felix’s hold still on his chin, and whined pitifully, uncaring of how desperate he sounded. “Now you get your reward.”

His breath stuttered at that, settling back on his heels, as Felix briefly dug his fingertips into his scalp, grounding. That’s right, he needed to be good. Be good and in control and he’d be rewarded. Do exactly what Felix wants him to, his desires were secondary. They didn’t matter. He’d already fucked up once already, indulged himself while Felix was still left wanting. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

Felix undid the ties of his breeches and pulled them loose, exposing the front of his underclothes. Sylvain could only watch helplessly, hands twitching with the urge to help, to run his hands down Felix's legs and pull off those gaiters, help him out of his breeches like unwrapping a gift. Because Felix was a gift, a gift that Sylvain still didn’t know how he deserved but was thankful for all the same. 

“Come here, darling.” 

Sylvain scrambled forwards again, needing to be close. Felix chuckled at his eagerness, cupping his face in his hands and swinging one of his legs over Sylvain’s shoulder, spreading himself open and waiting.

Sylvain nosed against Felix’s crotch, feeling the dampness of his underclothes and inhaling the musky, distinct smell of  _ him _ . Frustrated that he didn’t have the use of his hands, he gripped at the band of Felix’s underwear in his teeth and tried to tug them off, whining piteously.

Felix chuffed a laugh and hooked his thumbs into the band, pressing the heel of his boot against Sylvain's spine. “Much as I enjoy seeing you so desperate, I’ll help you this once.” The cloth rustled as it slid down Felix’s thighs, revealing his sex already slick and waiting.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” Felix said with a tut, grasping handfuls of Sylvain's hair and pulling him down, pressing his exposed crotch to Sylvain's face. Sylvain shuddered, exhaling with a gasp that made Felix’s hips twitch, and he heard a sharp, sudden exhalation above him. “Come on, or do I have to tell you how to do everything?”

Sylvain needed no further encouragement, pressing the flat of his tongue against Felix’s folds and licking in a thick stripe up to his dick. Pausing to suckle it lightly between his lips before going down again. Pressing the tip of his tongue against Felix’s entrance, into it, just for a brief moment, before moving up again. He thought he heard Felix whine a little as he moved away from his slit, his hands trying to push him back down as the heel on his back pressed him closer. His other leg pressed between Sylvain’s legs, smooth leather brushing against his cock and making him shudder at the sensitivity.

Again Sylvain dipped his tongue into Felix’s entrance, pressing as deep as he could go without his hands, satisfied at the groan from Felix as his hips shifted to press upwards into his face. Sylvain licked his way inside, allowing himself to sink into the smell and taste of Felix, thick in his nose and on his tongue, his restrained noises of pleasure mingling with the static hum in his mind. Every part of Sylvain started and ended with Felix; from the pinpricks of pain in his scalp from Felix’s nails, to the overwhelming presence of him on his face, to the pressure of his foot against his back and his dick, twitching in response to every noise, every movement from Felix above him, around him, filling him completely.

He became lost in it, moving wherever Felix wanted him, at his entrance, licking across his folds and suckling on his dick; sucking marks against Felix’s thighs when he needed to breathe. He felt every twitch and tremor from Felix's legs as they shook whenever he lavished attention on his dick.

“Goddess, look at you,” Felix's breath hitched, sounding  _ wrecked _ , and Sylvain never wanted to look at him more. He closed his eyes, fearing he’d be caught, enraptured by the sight of Felix falling apart under his tongue, and instead added more pressure to Felix’s dick, feeling his own twitch as he felt the tremors of Felix’s thighs intensify. He  _ ached _ with need; to have his hands free so he could grip Felix’s thigh, hold him open and finger him to completion. To have Felix writhing on his fingers and tongue until he was spent.

But he couldn’t. Those weren’t the rules here, and he knew Felix’s body well enough to know how to make him come undone with just his mouth. Even when the pressure on his drooling cock became so intense it was distracting, a tug on his hair was enough to pull him back to bringing Felix pleasure. 

A brush of teeth on Felix’s dick was what finally brought him over the edge. A long, low keen spilled from his lips as his thighs squeezed around Sylvain’s head and fingers snarled in his hair. His release was warm on Sylvain’s tongue as he pulled away, out of Felix’s slackening grip, and licked the come off his lips.

“Are you going to clean me up?” Felix breathed, thighs still quivering, breath deliberately controlled. Sylvain pressed a kiss against Felix’s thigh in acknowledgement before getting to work, relishing the taste of Felix on his tongue. Felix was combing fingers through his hair again, pressure barely there as Sylvain settled into it, feather light against sensitive skin.

Sylvain glanced up at Felix under hooded lids, heart catching at the soft, fond look on Felix’s face. His hair had come out its ponytail at some point, hanging loose around his shoulders and sticking to his temples with sweat. He looked beautiful, harsh edges softened from orgasm and the soft light of the dying fire.

“Good boy,” Felix said softly when Sylvain was done, gently pushing his head away so he could pull up his breeches. Sylvain swayed slightly in position, feeling unmoored without Felix’s grounding touch. “Now it’s your turn.” 

The sudden pressure on Sylvain’s dick made him curl over with a gasp, pressing his forehead against Felix’s thigh as he bucked against it, helplessly grinding against Felix’s leg like a dog. Rational thought flew from his mind as he pressed further against Felix, solid and real, as his brain floated back into the quiet space, where there was nothing but the search for his own pleasure.

His second orgasm felt like it was ripped from him, curled up tight against Felix as he cradled his head against his stomach, fingers back in his hair to ground him.

“You did good,” said a voice as he came back to himself. “You  did so, so good and I’m so proud of you.” 

Sylvan whined at the praise, pressing his face further into Felix’s stomach, overwhelmed. Knowing he’d done good, was good, that Felix was proud of him made more tears prick at the corners of his eyes. The light tremors stil wracked through his body, and he grasped at the soft wool of Felix’s shirt to try and still them.

“Come on, up you get.” Mind hazy, he vaguely registered Felix grasping his arms, and the sensation of being pulled upwards. The sudden show of strength sending flutters in his belly as his jelly legs uselessly tried to help in the movement. He settled among the covers, burying his face into the down pillow until he felt Felix’s weight start to move away from him.

“No,” he gasped, panicked as he flailed an arm in Felix’s direction. He settled as Felix caught his hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, sighing as Felix pressed a kiss against his sweaty forehead.

“I’m just getting you washed up, sunspot, I’ll be right back,”

Sylvain dozed for a while, vaguely listening to the sound of footsteps against stone, the slosh of water as the bowl by the fireplace was carried back to the bedside, and the rustle of fabric. Sylvain peeked one eye open, watching as Felix peeled off his vest and fiddled for a moment with the knot for his chest wrap. Once loose, it fell to the floor in a cascading wave that Sylvain watched for a moment, entranced.

“Hey, are you with me?” Felix’s voice brought him back to the present, followed by the warm touch of wet cloth on his abdomen. Sylvain captured Felix’s free hand, weakly squeezing it to see the soft smile that touched the corners of Felix’s mouth as he brought Sylvain’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. Sylvain settled into a doze again, mind drifting loose and comfortable as Felix continued to wipe him down, settling him back into his skin. 

He whined when Felix moved him again, pulling him into a sitting position, and Sylvain flopped against him in protest. Felix chuckled at that, the huff of breath tickling against his ear as he felt the rim of a cup press against his lips. Sylvain grasped loosely at Felix’s wrists, suddenly realising how thirsty he was but lacking the strength to gulp down the water the way he wanted to, having to settle for the measured sips Felix allowed him. When the cup was empty, Felix gently laid him back down, tucking the blanket over Sylvain’s body.

Sylvain sighed, settling down under the blanket and letting his heavy eyes finally slide closed, reaching out to skim his fingers against Felix’s back, reassuring himself that he was still there. He paused as he felt the indents in Felix’s side left by his chest wrappings, frowning.

“Stupid.” he mumbled, pressing meaningfully against them to get Felix’s attention.

“I know,” Felix said, capturing Sylvain’s fingers, “You can tell me off about it in the morning, it’s my turn to look after you.”

“‘Kay.” 

There was some rustling of cloth and then Felix’s weight solidified on the bed, gently pushing at Sylvain’s shoulders to get him to roll onto his other side. Sylvain obliged, body loose and pliant as he felt Felix press up against his back, bare feet tangling between Sylvain’s legs. Felix rested his chin on Sylvain’s head with a sigh, gently combing through his hair with the hand trapped under his head. Sylvain pressed back into Feix’s warmth, reassuring by the solid weight gently bringing him back down to earth. He captured Felix’s hand from where it had settled around his waist and pulled it to his lips, pressing kisses against the scarred knuckles and calloused palm, warmth and love filling his chest as the steady press of Felix’s fingers in his hair and the soft, mumbled words of praise lulled him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> rocks up to fire emblem fandom after a 5 year fic hiatus with a cup of tea, drops off porn, and ollies off into the distance.
> 
> you can find me on twitter, come yell at me about felix's thigh highs ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
